[S]aturday morning often means a breakfast of outsourced coffee. Usually, after Saturday morning class at Pop Physique, I’ll walk to Intelligentsia for coffee. Having skipped class this past weekend due to a three-day bout of staying up WAY too late, I was still on the LAMill side of town this Saturday. My friend Al and I wandered over to my favorite coffee shop. Armed with three cafes con leche, one scone, one slice of coffee cake, and one croissant, we returned to my place.
We sat with Ramsey on the couch, sipped our high-octane coffees and watched Rhys play. He crawled over to the ottoman, pulled himself up, and immediately swiped up what was left of my croissant with his tiny hand. I guess I should tell you that I am not a great sharer when it comes to food, and this instance was no exception. It’s rare I eat such buttery, flaky, fabulousness, and I really wanted to finish it! Rhys had other ideas for it. He ate the remainder. I mean, he demolished it. I had to suck it up and say au revoir, croissant. Next time I’ll keep you close at hand… I mean, mouth.
